


In Which Yuri And Viktor Are Thirsty And Pining

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on ICE
Genre: (sin as in extreme smut not as in gay relationships are sin), Holy fuck I can't believe I wrote this, M/M, Oh god, This is set in that one ep where Yuri's tired af, and then stare at him like, have some motherfucking sin, heart eyes motherfucker, so Viktor just HAS to take a nap with him obviously, there honestly needs to be another rating on ao3 above explicit that's just sin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9603062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sin





	

Yuri flopped face-first into the pillow on his side of the bed. His legs were shaking and his heart was still pounding from the exhilaration of it all. There was a certain headiness that came with taking the lead by a wide margin. Delight, confidence, disbelief, pride, and a small bit of terror all swirled together to form that dizzy feeling. He had been the last skater, and even though he had had to change, put up with interviews, find Viktor, and attempt to leave quietly but still get roped into more interviews, his legs hadn't stopped shaking from the thrill of it all yet. He could have sworn he was still on the ice. He could feel the skates on his feet, hear the music, feel the slight breeze that was created just by virtue of movement. The way his costume moved on his body, the stretch and pull of the spandex, the slight grate of the mesh, the difference between the side with the skirt and the side without. He went for a jump, but his foot slipped out and he fell. His hand automatically shot out to catch his fall, but instead of ice, his fingers met with thin air, and when he bent his elbow, the side of the bed. His eyes flew open, impeded slightly by the pillow in his face. Was that a dream? A hallucination? Was he that tired?  
Either way, the lights were off. That was odd, since they hadn't been when he laid down. He shifted onto his back, aware of a weight that also hadn't been there when he laid down. He was reminded again why sharing a bed with Viktor was a Bad Idea, since he insisted on wearing only briefs to bed, and Yuri had a hard time dealing with that. (Pun intended). The hotel had only had a room with a single bed in it, and Yuri was stuck somewhere between praising and cursing his luck. It was especially difficult since Viktor's blanket seemed determined to give Yuri the best view possible. He could clearly see Viktor's back, the graceful curve of his spine, his sharply defined shoulderblades, all lit up by the moon shining in through the window whose curtains Viktor had forgotten to close again. Viktor rolled his head more into the pillow and away from Yuri, a soft sound escaping him. What was going on? Was Viktor having a bad dream? Questions raced through Yuri's mind. He turned his head to look at Viktor, and was just opening his mouth to inquire if something was wrong when a stifled moan carried over the Russian's shoulders and stuck in Yuri's ears. He froze, entire body tensing up. He stared at Viktor's back, willing himself to blink or relax or breathe, but his body was immobile. It was like time had stopped in that moment. He knew he should stop staring, should shut his eyes or force them away or something. Anyways, he was probably getting too worked up about nothing. Viktor could be asleep, and Yuri just delusional from his skating high and the fact that he was so hopelessly in love with Viktor. He was overanalyzing and basing his overanalysis on hope, probably. Viktor wasn't--no--why would he be? A soft sound that was halfway between a whine and a whimper cut through the half-silence and straight to Yuri's attention (and his dick), and then Viktor turned onto his back. Yuri had to bite his lip to keep from gasping, the picture in front of him was just so perfect. Viktor's usually well-kept hair was disheveled, some falling onto his face, some spreading out over the pillow behind him. His eyes were squeezed shut, but his lips were parted softly. A pink flush had appeared on his cheeks - and that was just his face! His chest rose and fell somewhat rhythmically, although sometimes as his breath hitched it would stutter. His already pale skin looked almost white in the moonlight, and the shadows cast by the angles and curves seemed to dance as Viktor moved. He moaned again, louder this time, as his hips shifted up into his hand. With a short, impatient noise, he kicked the blanket off of his legs and pulled off his black briefs with a hissed intake of breath. Yuri knew he shouldn't be seeing this, but at the same time, he didn't want to stop. He had seen him naked lots before, but this was different. Viktor's cock was flushed, curving slightly as the light now hit it as well. It was sinful how slowly he moved his hand, luxuriously slow, but also painfully slow, as if he wanted to draw this out. Yuri begged himself to drag his eyes from the gorgeous picture in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. He knew that if Viktor so much as glanced at him, then the game would be up and things would become incredibly awkward, incredibly quickly. He couldn't turn his head away, because that would alert Viktor to his not-asleepness, so he was stuck exactly like this, having to pretend to be asleep while this happened before his eyes. Another moan tumbled from Viktor's lips, which sent a jolt of heat surging through Yuri's body straight to his dick. He wanted that on replay. Yes, he had imagined what Viktor's moan would sound like, but never in his wildest fantasies had it ever been that low, that sultry, that desperate. Viktor's breath snagged in his throat, and then a word. "Yuri~!"  
Everything ground to a halt in Yuri's brain, all thoughts replaced with an instant freakout. Viktor knew. Somehow, he knew. Yuri hadn't even seen him open his eyes, so how did he know? "Nh - Yuri!" Viktor grunted, his thumb rubbing slow circles onto the head of his cock.  
Yuri's mind now shot into overdrive. He hadnt moved, had barely breathed, and Viktor didn't seem to be stopping at all. Even with his level of shamelessness, he would probably still be embarrassed, if even momentarily, to be discovered, which left Yuri with one other explanation. Viktor was fantasizing about him. Yuri once again had to bite his lip to keep in a gasp, synchronizing with Viktor, who did a rather worse job at quieting the sound. His other hand crept up his chest to start playing with his nipples. First rolling it, then tweaking it, then switching to the other, as his hips involuntarily bucked up into his other hand. A stream of Russian poured from Viktor's lips, of which Yuri understood nothing but his name. His hand seemed to be unconsciously picking up speed, twisting slightly on the upstroke, as his eyes fluttered rapidly between open and closed. "Yebat, Yuri~!" He hissed suddenly, as his hand stilled.  
White spilled over his hand onto his torso as his back arched up off the mattress. Yuri could feel the shifts in the foam underneath him as Viktor moved involuntarily, bucking into his hand in the aftershocks. He hastily closed his eyes as Viktor started to stand up, in case he looked at him.  
He watched through his eyelashes as Viktor stood up and made his way, a little dizzily, to the small washroom. He couldn't get that image out of his head - well, any of the images, really - nor the way his name sounded rolling off Viktor's lips. In that voice, cracking slightly but full of need, his name sounded almost sinful, and he absolutely wanted to hear that again. What am I thinking, he reminded himself, with a mental smack. Viktor is my coach, even if he is only twenty-seven. Even though he does seem to want me back, would it be the right thing to do?  
All of Yuri's doubtful introspections were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing again, the sliver of yellow light that fell on the carpet a direct contrast to the pools of moonlight. Viktor, who had reacquired his briefs somehow, once again got into bed beside Yuri (although he had nowhere else to go, there was only one bed) and pulled his blanket back over himself. Yuri's mind was racing to catch up with the present, as it was still hung up over the fact that Viktor said his name. Viktor fantasized about him, Yuri Katsuki, who was nowhere near his level. He had no idea what Viktor had said in Russian, but from his tone and the situation, Yuri judged it to be dirty or sexual in some way. Yuri took deep breaths as silently as he could, sure that his heart was beating so loudly Viktor could hear it. Yuri glanced at the clock beside the bed. Shit, it was late - or early, depending on how you looked at it. He needed to sleep, since his free program was in about six hours, but he was quite hard from the sight he just witnessed. He was amazed with himself that he was able to think of anything other than that, since it had not only changed his perception of Viktor drastically, but was quite frankly the hottest thing he'd ever seen. The fact remained that he wasn't supposed to see it, and somehow that made it slightly hotter. (He would have to think about that later).  
Yuri lay there, his eyes wide, attempting to calm his mind and his erection enough to sleep. He would be there for quite a while, he thought. As he lay there, he decided to give Viktor a taste of his own medicine tomorrow- with the exception, of course, that Yuri knew Viktor was awake and listening. He blushed a dark red after thinking such a thing, but didn't attempt to dissuade himself. He knew that if he tried to persuade his psyche that this was a bad idea, he would certainly succeed. In all honesty, it probably was a bad idea, but this had blown his mind, and so by extension, his impulse control was also blown to bits. Therefore, he would proceed.


End file.
